Lost in the Dark

Somewhere Else

Time Unknown

Eleven's eyes snapped open and she found herself surrounded by darkness. She tried to look around, and found nothing but complete and total blackness in every direction. It came to her suddenly that she must be in the In-Between, though she couldn't for the life of her remember sending her mind there. She tried hard to think of what she had been doing, and who she might be looking for, but nothing came to her. She turned again, looking for a glimmer of light anywhere that might give her a clue as to what was happening. Worried something was wrong with her eyes, she held her hands up and was relieved to find that, despite the infinite dark around her, she could very clearly see her own arms. She began to walk, hoping something might come into view. Realizing immediately that something was wrong, she stopped again.

"Everything is wrong," she thought, with a rising panic.

The In-Between had always felt solid beneath her feet as she walked, and it had that shimmering water that splashed around her toes. Here, there was no water and nothing to be felt beneath her feet. She tried stomping one foot to feel the ground, and her foot simply went down until her leg was out straight. There was no ground beneath her feet, and yet she knew she wasn't falling. She didn't feel like she was floating, either; not like in the bath. She tried putting her foot down one more time and felt that she was standing firm again, despite there being nothing solid below her.

"Where am I?" she asked herself. She knew she wasn't in the Upside-Down, nor the Rightside-Up, and this certainly didn't feel like the In-Between. She was somewhere else. She began to panic before remembering the blindfold. "Wherever I am, I had to have brought myself here," she thought as she reached up to pull the cover from her eyes and found nothing was there. Her arms - her real arms - felt heavy and still. Try as she might, she couldn't get them to move at all.

"Stay calm," she told herself, "You've gone somewhere and you just have to go back the way you came." The problem was, she had no idea how she had come here. She tried to think. What had she been doing today? What was today? The harder she tried to remember, the further the answers felt like they were slipping away. She was beginning to panic as nothing familiar came to her. By instinct, she twisted a finger in the blue band around her wrist, though she couldn't seem to recall why she would be doing it. Her mind was turning to a haze, like looking out the window on a cold, foggy morning. She thought hard, trying to pull up the last thing she could remember doing. Fragments of words, flashes of obscured faces, nothing would come to her.

Mike!

His name came flashing out of the void around her. Just as suddenly, it was trying to flee once more.

"No!" she thought stubbornly, refusing to let the name slip away. She pulled hard against the memory, trying to bring forward every detail she could remember about him. Mike. The boy who found her cold and scared, lost in the rain. The boy who brought her into his home, gave her clothes, built her the blanket fort. The boy who kept her safe and hidden and brought her Eggos. The one who held her as she cried, tearfully revealing her darkest secrets: that she had opened the gate and released the demogorgon. The one who refused to let her blame herself or think of herself as a monster.

With each detail, every thread, she began to feel a calm wash over her. She gathered every thought she could about the name. Mike. The brave boy who stood between her and the bad men when she was too weak to fight, ready to defend her life with his own. The boy who stood vigil for 353 days, desperately reaching out for her each night, refusing to believe she was gone when others had given up hope. The boy who helped her take her first tentative steps into the real world and was there to catch her when life made her stumble.

All this and more flooded through her mind and his face blazed clear. She shut her eyes and tried to pull herself toward him as she had hundreds of times before. It had become like breathing to her - effortless - and she could find him anywhere. She opened her eyes, ready to see his pale, freckled face and those deep brown eyes. Instead, once again, she saw only blackness. She tried again, with the same heartbreaking result.

Between the effort of pulling forth his memory, and trying to reach out and find him, Eleven began to feel drained and exhausted. She tucked her knees into her chest and rolled to one side, perceiving herself now lying down, though she had not changed position at all. Her eyelids felt heavy and a comforting warmth surrounded her like a thick blanket.

"I'll just close my eyes for a minute," she told herself, "then I'll try to find him again."

She drifted off sleep with the image of Mike's face held tight in her mind's grasp; she wasn't going to let him go again.

Hawkins, IN

June 13, 1986

Morning failed to bring any better news about Eleven's condition. Several nurses came to collect her just before 8:00 and wheeled her bed away for another round to tests. They warned Mike and Hopper it would likely be a couple hours before she was back and settled, suggesting that the cafeteria was open for breakfast. Deciding they were both starved after skipping dinner the night before, they took the elevator down in silence, still lost in thought. After picking a few things that looked good, they grabbed a table and settled in to eat. It quickly became obvious that neither was very hungry after all, too lost in worry, and mostly they just poked at their meals.

Hopper stared across the table, pondering the boy tracing lines with a fork through his scrambled eggs, too upset to contemplate eating them. It had occurred to him many times that he had a unique relationship with Mike Wheeler, far beyond what he would normally have expected between a father and his daughter's boyfriend. He had come to realize Mike was devoted mind, body and soul to Jane. He had been there for her in every way he possibly could, to protect her. He had stood up to armed guards with rifles drawn and aimed squarely at his chest and bravely declared they would have to go through him to get to her. He almost laughed, remembering the night Mike finally found out she was alive and safe. After the initial overwhelming joy at seeing her, he had fallen into a rage, directed squarely at Hopper, upon the discovery he had been hiding her and hadn't told him. Hopper had been shocked when Mike threw several angry punches his way, and had taken them willingly, knowing the boy was right and that he probably deserved them. Mike Wheeler was probably the only person on earth who could get away with that, but only the one time.

"Do you want to call people, or should I?" Mike asked, pulling Hopper back to reality.

"What?" he asked, trying to put together who Mike meant. As far as he was concerned, everyone Jane needed was right here already.

"The guys, and Max, I'm sure they'll want to know so they can come by," he explained. "And Mrs. Byers of course. You know she'll kill you if she finds out about this from someone else."

Hopper let out a sigh, "Yeah, I guess we should give them all a call. Good thinking. Do you mind doing it?"

"No, I don't mind. I'm done anyway, not really that hungry."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Hopper replied, a sad, half smirk on his face. "I think I'm going to head back up to her room to wait."

"Okay, I'll see you up there in a little bit," he said, picking up the half-full styrofoam cup of coffee he was working on, and headed off in search of a phone.

After clearing their trays, Hopper started back toward the elevators but then paused next to one of the doors leading out to the parking lot. At Jane's insistence, he had quit smoking about six months ago. She had never liked the smell, and then her first semester of school had included a health class. She had come home and proudly recited everything dangerous he was doing to himself with cigarettes. So he had quit. For her. Today, he felt the strongest craving for one since that first week quitting cold-turkey. He knew there was a half pack and a lighter out in the Blazer, tucked away in the glove box. He hadn't meant to keep them, and only found them by chance when he was cleaning out the backseat a few months ago. He had hung onto them more as a test of willpower than as a fallback, but now he felt as though they were calling to him. He wasn't sure how long he stood at the door, staring out into the parking lot, but eventually Hopper pulled himself back and turned toward the elevators. He had quit for her, and he wasn't about to start up again when she needed him to be there for her more than ever.

Back in her room, Hopper settled into his chair and dropped his hat down over his eyes. He leaned back, intending to rest for a few minutes before the doctors brought her back and the next round of news would be delivered. A few minutes later, Mike returned, settling into his own chair.

"That was fast," Hopper said, not bothering to raise his hat to look at him.

"I called Mrs. Byers first," Mike explained. "She said she would handle calling everyone else. She's also going to coordinate people coming by so everyone's not here at once."

"How'd she take the news?" Hopper asked, knowing Joyce had begun to think of Jane like her own daughter as well.

"I think she was ready to jump in the car and run every red light to get over here." Mike said, smiling at the thought that she probably could have made better time than Hopper getting to the hospital last night. "I think she is going to have a few choice words for you when she gets here, for not calling her the second we got here."

At that, Hopper couldn't help himself and let out a single, sharp laugh. "I bet she will," he replied. "And she's probably right, but it never even crossed my mind."

"Yeah, me neither," Mike consoled. "It didn't hit me until breakfast." He thought for a minute and then teased, "You probably have a little time to think up an apology. I warned her they are running tests right now, so it will be a while before she is back in the room."

Hopper raised a corner of his hat and eye'd Mike across the room. "Thanks for calling her kid. I appreciate it."

Somewhere Else

Time Unknown

Eleven's eyes flickered open once more and she was greeted again by the same unending blackness. The confusion of that first waking was replaced by a resigned sigh at the realization she was still here. Wherever here was. This time, mercifully, she could at least remember a little more. She recalled her struggle to pull forth Mike's memory, and her inability to find him. She could remember laying down, or at least imagining laying down, and closing her eyes to rest. So perhaps that was a progress of sorts. She tried once more to reach out and locate Mike, straining her mind to find him wherever he might be; she could feel so strongly that he was nearby, but he still seemed to remain out of reach. She searched her memory to see if anything or anyone new had shown up there.

Hopper, no that wasn't quite right, Daddy!

She pulled him out of the foggy mist. Scruffy beard, tired, worried eyes and his favorite hat. As she recalled all she could about him, she was startled to find there was more pain and confusion than there had been with Mike. His memories initially came forth with lies and broken promises, but also love and caring. While he had gone about things all wrong in the beginning, his lies and overprotectiveness had all been in a noble but misguided attempt to keep her safe. There had been fights, including several big ones where she had thought about leaving the cabin and running away and one difficult time where she was certain he would send her away. She called forth more memories and was relieved to recall how much better things had turned. They had grown to understand each other and in him, she had found a real father who loved her more than anything in the world.

She clung to his memory and tried to reach out to find him. Once again, he felt so close and yet remained out of reach. The panic started to creep in again and she found herself clinging to the hairband around her wrist. Sara! Sara's hairband. Daddy had given her Sara's hairband to give her strength when she didn't have enough of her own. She smiled as she twisted and untwisted the band, its healing strength filling her, even as the exhaustion began to take hold. She curled up again, staring off in the distance.

As her eyes slowly closed, she thought she saw a dim, gray light taking shape. Before she could focus or try to figure out what it was, sleep overtook her.